The traveller

I travel to far beyond the dreams I used to have

What beckons me and spurs me forward

through the rain of grey reality?

How can vision haunt the soul

and yet so nimbly set it free?

I climb the highest aspirations

And seek the inner peaks of elevation

To shout for more, to fight or flee

to the valleys below the clouds

and steam will rise from those

unblinking depths.

I mean come on – you thought you knew

as you walked through the alleys of your mind

what laid there waiting for you like a rapist

hiding, sieging you so secretly

Waiting to set you free

And I, in Berlin's boulevards

drunk, fucked up and still in pain

liberated, baptised and tossed away

by the madness

from those subtle, solid silver chains.

They explain the need for decency,

and I seek the sublime,

for it seeks me

She sleeps with me behind my back

Since I turned away

To the place where vision never reaches me

And the sound of water dropping

on that abandoned steering wheel,

bewitches me, enriches me.

Where I now lay in wake for you.

I am that rapist in your mind.

I will demand of you the vision,

on a distance, safe and odourless

that I forsook when night rolled in

and my vaults of courage all caved in

Alone, I travelled here for you

for that thing within your precious mind

the diamond in the lotus bud

the life that sparkles in your blood

the single, lonely entropy

and all the honey, and the bees

the flowers and the lemon trees

the great escape from all we sought

The freedom where my soul was caught